what?
So I'm teaching a creative writing camp for high schoolers right now, and we spend a lot of time in the computer lab working on their stories. They come back and get me if they need a jump-start--most of them still haven't fallen into that college self-consciousness yet, though, and they can go on for pages about how it felt when they moved to Idaho in the ninth grade and their boyfriends etc. etc. etc.
Anyway, meanwhile, I am writing this:
"Here," she said against the shell of my ear, "we can talk a little here. It's quieter." I felt the door against my back, my hair catching on the raw wood, and then her lips, falling gently against the soft skin behind my ear. Her breath on my neck, my hands coming up to crease the shoulders of her shirtwaist--it was all one moment, all one thing together, the two of us touching like that.
:)
Anyway, meanwhile, I am writing this:
"Here," she said against the shell of my ear, "we can talk a little here. It's quieter." I felt the door against my back, my hair catching on the raw wood, and then her lips, falling gently against the soft skin behind my ear. Her breath on my neck, my hands coming up to crease the shoulders of her shirtwaist--it was all one moment, all one thing together, the two of us touching like that.
:)